War of the Ignorants
by VioletStarlight
Summary: Kat, the daughter of a distinguished scientist, is tired of constantly moving. But when she meets a young boy named Dib, keeping friends becomes the least of her worries. Humanity is in danger, and not just from the Irkens. A secret council has just begun the newest stage of a thousand-year-long project to control Earth and its inhabitants: making the human race idiots.
1. Prologue of DOOM

Security camera 221-B memory log. Date: 11/23/2150. Time stamp: 22:14:58

.

.

.

Play footage

.

.

.

A group of eleven people huddled around a wooden table that was too small for the number of people it was supporting. On the table were a handful documents and charts that were all labeled "CLASSIFIED" in large letters at the top of each page. No one at the table had clearance to read them.

The only light source in the room came from a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling that occasionally flickered. The atmosphere was tense as the implications of what they had just been told sunk in. No one spoke for a long time, but everyone stared at the man who had just given them the worst news in Earth's history. Some gaped at him with eyes wide with shock, others looked at him with fear etched across their features, and several stared as looks of disgust appeared on their faces. Most just stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you sure?" one of them hesitantly asked. His brown hair was greying and worry was shown in his eyes. All eyes shifted to him at the sound of his voice, and then quickly shifted back to the head of the table, waiting for the other man's response.

"Yes," The single word sparked an explosion of panicked and shouted questions so quickly and overlapped each other that no one could make out anything they were saying.

"SILENCE!" the man shouted. Once again, the room was silent save for the echo of his voice bouncing off the walls. "I did not gather the world's ten brightest minds for you to all yell and panic about this! I brought you here to _do_ something about it! To find a way to _stop_ this!"

"Stop this?" another asked, incredulous. He was wearing a pristine white lab coat, the collar of which partially obscured his face. "How can we _try_ to find a way to stop this? You won't even tell us _how_ they're doing it?"

"Professor Membrane does have a point," the man who asked the first question said. Murmurs of agreement could be heard from everywhere at the table. "If you truly do want to help, then why aren't you telling us everything you know? We don't even know you're name!"

"That _is_ all I know, I swear!" the man insisted. He was starting to get nervous about the way some of the people were looking at him. He preferred the looks of surprise over the suspicion that could be seen on most of their faces. "And I'd rather not have my name involved in any of this in case they find out someone gave you this information. Look, I'm just an assistant, okay? They only me hired two weeks ago. I accidentally saw the file on one of their computers, and I copied it on my flash drive before anyone could see me. It looked really important, and I figured that I could do something with it. I didn't exactly have a specific plan; maybe sell it back to them for a high price?"

"Wow, you're sure a model employee," the man replied sarcastically.

"Please, Doctor Hawking, I'm nearly done. Let me finish," the man requested. "After I took it home and looked at it in closer detail, I realized that I had to tell _someone_ what was going to happen. I had to tell someone what had _already_ happened! So that's why I called all of you here."

"Then why didn't you contact the FBI or the UN or NSY or _somebody_ with more influence than a handful of scientists?" Dr. Hawking's asked a simple question, but his hazel eyes displayed his distrust of the host. "Surely anyone in law enforcement or government would have been a better choice to reveal this to."

"You make a good point, whoever you are," Prof. Membrane admitted.

"I'm Dr. Sylvester McCoy and this is my twin sister, Lenora," the hazel eyed man replied motioning to the woman with spiky black hair next to him as he introduced her as his fraternal twin. Lenora, who looked more like a punk rocker than a scientist, waved to the group when her presence was announced.

"In case you haven't noticed, Dr. McCoy, they started the project a long time ago. World leaders and most of the government were among the first to be affected; surely you can see how incompetent they are now? Only a handful of people in high positions are left unaffected, and I can only speculate that the reason is those people are part of the group that is doing all of this. They haven't even started the final phase, and, if these charts from them are correct, nearly the entire population has been affected already!" the man shifted through the papers on the table until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a complex graph from the stack and passed it around the table.

"Then why haven't we been affected? If what you are telling us about their plans is true, then we should have been targeted after leaders and law officers," Lenora pointed out.

"Yeah and how did you get all of these documents anyway?" the woman next on Lenora's left chimed in. Her hair had striking, electric blue streaks of color in her bleach blonde hair. "I thought you said that you only copied one file on your flash drive?"

"Yes, I only copied one file the _first_ _time_ , Dr. Tesla. After I decided to tell someone, I went back to work the next day and got more. It took me eight days to collect all of these papers, and three more days to gather the courage to contact you all. I had intended to get more files, but my superiors were starting to get suspicious. That's also why I don't know _how_ they're doing what they're doing. As for your question Ms. McCoy—"

" _Doctor_ McCoy. Genetic engineering," Lenora interrupted.

"Sorry, _Doctor_ McCoy," he said. The man looked through the papers again, this time settling on a long document titled "Glitches and Setbacks as of 9/14/2151." He handed the paper to Lenora McCoy. "In section 4M of this document, it addresses how certain people seem to be immune or unaffected. Scientists are at the top of the list for those who are likely to be immune. They weren't sure why or how, but it also lists a scheduled date two months from now for it to be brought up at an official meeting."

"So we're safe until then? Two months is _not_ enough time to stop this," Dr. Tesla pointed out.

"We probably have a lot longer than that, Nicolette," Doctor Hawking reassured her. "It will take them a long time after the meeting to discern why we're immune and how to stop it."

"You don't know that. Quit lying to the girl, Spencer," Prof. Membrane interjected.

" _Professor!_ " Spencer Hawking shouted in protest.

"I'm sorry, but you know as well as I do that it could take them less than a day to figure out how to get rid of this little 'glitch' of theirs. There might even be a team of theirs trying to fix it right now," Prof. Membrane suggested.

"Making people panic is not going to help anyone!" Dr. Hawking insisted.

"Neither is giving people an obviously false sense of security!" Membrane replied. "What we need to do now is start thinking of a way to _stop_ this."

Spencer Hawking opened his mouth to respond to the professor again when Dr. Nicolette spoke first.

"It's ok, Doctor Hawking, Professor Membrane is right. Worrying about when or if we might be affected is not going to solve anything. We know what they're doing, but we don't know how. Our first priority is to ascertain how these people are doing this," Dr. Nicolette said.

Professor Membrane sent a knowing smirk at Spencer Hawking as everyone at the table agreed with the blue-haired woman.

"How are we going to figure this out, exactly?" the new, French accented voice came from a woman with a tattoo of a neuron. The main body of the neuron rested just underneath her left ear and the axon curled down her neck and rested at her right clavicle.

"Yeah, Ally has a good point," the woman next to her said. She had a tattoo of DNA in the same position as the woman who just spoke. "Um, hi. I'm Doctor Jane Watson. The only information we have on them are these papers, and none of them describe _how_ this plan of theirs is being accomplished. Most of these documents just describe their involvement in the Last Great War. Taking down and very nearly erasing the internet, shutting down all access to information, infiltrating governments, etc. While that's very informative, it's not particularly relevant to what we need to know to stop them."

"And we're not going to figure out how by staring at documents or talking amongst ourselves about what we don't know," Ally replied.

"Okay then, what's your suggestion?" Dr. Watson asked.

Dr. Binet was silent as she thought about his Jane's question. She didn't really have any specific ideas, but she knew that they had to do _something_. Doing something was a lot better than the whole lot of nothing they were accomplishing right now.

"If no one else has any ideas, then allow me to suggest something," this man was the only one in the group wearing a suit. He looked like he belonged in a business meeting, not an underground conference.

"Go ahead. We're open to suggestions," Sylvester McCoy told the man.

"Thank you, Doctor McCoy. I would like to propose an experiment. We cannot discover the means by which they are executing their plan by shifting through these practically worthless documents. After all, no information of any significance would be under such horrendous security measures. What we can do, however, is conduct an experiment that would test how it affects people under various conditions and when certain measures are put in place to prevent its effects. From that data, we should be able to deduce exactly what method or methods are being used to bring about the success of their plan. I am aware that I am suggesting an extremely long-term experiment, but their plan is even longer," the man had a British accent and spoke in tone that made it clear he thought he was the most important person in the room.

"Who exactly are you?" Dr. Hawking asked. There was something about this man's icy demeanor that put him on edge. Judging by the looks on most of everyone else faces, they felt the same way.

"My apologies, I am Sir Mycroft Holmes, professor at Cambridge University, and formerly the British Government," the man said.

"Um, don't you mean formerly _a member_ of the British Government?" Dr. Nicolette Tesla asked nervously.

"No," Mycroft replied. "Not that it really matters. Countries don't actually exist anymore."

"What? Of course they do!" Ally practically shouted. The neuron tattoo on her neck twisted and bent as she spoke.

"Oh my! My dear Allison Binet, it seems I have quite a bit of explaining to do, but now is not the time for that. Right now, we must focus on the task at hand. Politics should be saved for after," Mycroft had a slight smile that radiated condescension.

Dr. Binet muttered that she didn't want to be called Allison, but Mycroft chose to ignore her. By now, everyone at the table was feeling uneasy about Mycroft's presence.

"Professor Holmes…" Spencer began.

"Mr. Holmes will do just fine, Doctor Hawking," Mycroft said, cutting her off and knowingly irritating her.

"Fine, Mr. Holmes, what you seem to be suggesting in this experiment of yours is to monitor people throughout their lives under various circumstances," Spencer Hawking. He was not entirely sure how to bring up his point, but the look of impatience on Mycroft's face told him that he would not respond to anything but a direct and purposeful question. When he still did not clarify, Mr. Holmes raised an eyebrow as if to say 'continue.'

"Well, the only we could be sure no outside sources, other than the one we are searching for, affect our subjects would be if we monitor them constantly. That's also the only way we can ensure whatever trait or circumstance is being studied on that subject is not being influenced or altered in anyway. Also, we would have to begin the experiment at or immediately following the subject's birth, maybe even before birth. Not to mention, we would have to have _a lot_ of test subjects to investigate multiple conditions!" Dr. Hawking's voice had been progressively getting louder as he listed off the requirements of the experiment Mycroft suggested.

"Yes, that is correct. However, I fail to see your point, Doctor Hawking," Mr. Holmes remained as composed as ever.

"My point is that you are suggesting using _infants_! And then experimenting on, manipulating, and observing them for their _entire lives_ as they grow up! And you expect me to be _ok_ with that?" Spencer was enraged at the man's proposition and his infuriatingly calm voice only added to his fury. A few people at the table could be seen sharing Dr. Hawking's feelings, but most eyed Mr. Holmes with a mixture of curiosity and hesitance.

"I can understand your initially negative response towards my proposal, but please listen," Mycroft was having trouble maintaining his mask of composure, but he would not let anyone become aware of that fact. Dr. Hawking was really getting under his skin and Mycroft wished he would just shut up. "The children would be in no way harmed, in fact, they would be well cared for and given individual attention. That is, of course, assuming all parties here agree to take just one or two children into their homes. They could care for them as their own child and raise them as they see fit, so long as that does not interfere with the individual test parameters. I am aware that 'experiment' has negative connotations when associated with life forms, especially humans, but it is just a word. If anyone has an idea that will accomplish our goal more efficiently, then I welcome you to speak up."

When no one, not even Spencer, spoke up, Mr. Holmes took that as their acceptance of his experiment. Many people around the table looked as if they wished they had a plan to suggest.

"So we are all agreed on our course of action?" Mycroft asked. An air of finality circulated throughout the room as everyone nodded in agreement, though some still showed signs of reservations about the plan. "Good. Though I suggest we should all meet at a later date to discuss the specifics."

"Why?" one man asked who had remained silent during the rest of the discussion. He had been going over the notes and papers spread across the table with another other man who had been silent as well. He brushed back a long strand of brown hair, revealing an atom tattooed behind his ear. "From what my…erm… _colleague_ and I have been able to gather from these documents, time is not on our side, especially if we intend to go through such a long term plan like raising ten children."

"You are Doctor Rutherford, correct?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, but–"

"You and your _friend_ have been very quiet examining those papers. Care to share with the rest of the class?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Yes, of course," the other man said. "My name is Adam Turing and I specialize in computer technology and code breaking. Doctor Rutherford and I have been examining numerous charts and graph, and we have come to the conclusion that the data shows a rapid increase in the effectiveness of _whatever_ it is. I fear we do not have much time left until the population of the entire planet is affected. When this happens—and it _will_ happen—no one will be able to put a stop to them, this mysterious Council."

"While their long term goal is currently unknown, there is no evidence to suggest it is anything but malicious," Eric Rutherford continued, picking up effortlessly from where his partner left off. "We need to do something to stop them, and the first step is figuring what the hell they're doing in the first place. As such, Mr. Holmes' plan will certainly be able to accomplish this goal. And, while I hesitate to label the raising of children—human life—as an experiment, it's the best idea we have."

"So are we all in agreement?" Mycroft asked. Slowly, all people at the table nodded their heads.

"Thank you! All of you," the man who had gathered them all here said. "I wish I had more information to give you, but I want to do whatever I can to help!"

"Of course. This is going to be a team effort, after all," an air of smugness surrounded Mycroft, pleased that they were going through with his plan. Whatever hint of a smile was beginning to creep onto his face immediately vanished. "However, before we begin to discuss the specifics of this plan, there is something that must be taken care of. A fly on the wall, if you will. And I do regret that I did not notice it until now. My apologies." Mycroft Holmes pulled out a gun, looked directly at the hidden security camera, and pulled the trigger.

.

.

.

Error. Connection Lost.

.

.

.


	2. That Green Kid

**AN: Okay now the story really starts! I know the previous chapter doesn't make much sense on its own, but I promise everything will be explained with time :)**

13 years later

Kat could see her breath in the chilly morning air as the young girl made her way to the new school that she would be attending. The sound of her shoes echoed against the sidewalk, creating a rhythmic beat that sliced through the silence like a blade. As a particularly strong blast of wind blew past her, she pulled her dark blue beanie further down her head so that it covered the ears turning red from the cold. The new-found warmth from the beanie's new position caused her glasses to fog up, so she took them off and began to wipe them clean on the hem off her shirt. Her now blurry vision somehow managed to make the scenery less miserable.

 _That's probably because I can't see how horrible this new city is,_ Kat thought to herself. _At first, moving all around the world because of Dad's job was fun. Now, it's just annoying. Now, I get dragged around while Dad goes to meet a bunch of different scientists to do who knows what kind of random experiments or studies. Now, I know that I'm never going to have a normal life not to mention_ friends _that last longer than two months._

Kat continued to mull over her thoughts for a few more minutes until she realized that she was still absentmindedly rubbing her glasses on the bottom of her shirt. She placed them back in front of her eyes just in time to see a wide, rectangular building that was only two stories high. Dozens of kids were rushing through the doors placed in the center of the building as buses and cars dropped off even more kids. A large sign that read "SKOOL" in large letters stood above the doors.

 _I don't know why I'm still surprised. It seems like the intelligence of the population diminishes with each city we go to. Of the twelve schools I've gone to in the past three years, I think only two of them spelled school correctly,_ Kat remembered as she walked up to the school's entrance with all of the other children. _And then, everyone at those two schools constantly complained that the spelling of the school was too complex. Even the teachers made complaints to their respective principals! I can understand why Dad insisted on teaching me everything himself over the weekends. Not that it stops him from sending me to these hell holes in the first place._

The inside of the school was horribly rundown. Cracks spread everywhere across the filth-ridden floor and ran up the equally disgusting walls. Most of the yellow fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling were either burnt out or flickering on the verge of being extinguished. Occasionally, an ear piercing scream could be heard from underneath the floors that sent chills through Kat's spine. The other children either didn't hear it or simply managed to ignore it.

Pushing her way through the mindless crowd, Kat finally found her classroom. Turning the doorknob and stepping inside, she was immediately face to face with who she could only assume to be the teacher, Ms. Bitters if the nameplate on her desk was any indication. She looked more like a demon than an elementary school teacher. Her face seemed set in a permanent scowl as she loomed over Kat, sending a jolt of fear through the younger of the two. Hesitantly, Kat pulled a note out of her jacket pocket and handing it to Ms. Bitters. It was snatched up in a skeletal hand that was far too fast for human reflexes. She quickly glanced at what was on the note, and then dragged the startled girl to the center of the class in one swift motion.

"Hello, class. It seems we have a new student today. You!" Ms. Bitters said as she pointed one of her bony fingers at Kat. "Tell the class your name. Then be quiet!"

"My name's Kat," she managed to say once she recovered the ability to speak from under Ms. Bitter's death glare.

"Well then, _Kat,_ " she said with as much malice as possible. "I suppose I need to find you a place to sit. Now let's see… who am I tired of the most today?"

She looked at all of the students, and then finally pointed to a girl in a seat at the front, second from the left.

"You there! You are being transferred to the underground classrooms! Away with you!" As soon as Ms. Bitters finished her last sentence, the floor opened up beneath her desk, and the girl fell through the hole with a terrified scream. The floor and desk returned to their original position as soon as she was gone. The other students did not seem to react to what just happened, leading Kat to the horrible conclusion this was an ordinary occurrence. Then Ms. Bitters turned her attention back to her. "Sit."

Not needing any other reason to get away from the teacher, Kat practically ran to the newly vacant seat, but hesitated before sitting down. She dropped her backpack down on the floor next to the desk and eyed the piece of classroom furniture like it was about to explode. After nothing happened, she decided it was safe enough and sat down.

As soon as Kat had moved toward her desk, Ms. Bitters turned towards the chalkboard. She began to write "doom" in large letters and seemed to be making an effort to have the chalk sound as loud and screechy as possible while she wrote.

 _I guess these underground classrooms are where I heard the screams coming from. Is this a school or a torture facility? I wonder how often people get sent to there. Definitely often enough for no else to react to this,_ Kat thought before she was pulled out from her musings by the boy to her left trying to get her attention.

"So your name is Cat? Like the animal?" the boy asked. He had black hair styled in the strangest way Kat had ever seen and his black coat with its upturned collar reminded her vaguely of the early 21st century version Sherlock Holmes. The blue shirt underneath the Sherlock-esque coat had a grey, simple, neutral face on it.

"No, it's spelled with a 'K.' It's short for Katelyn," she answered, slightly irritated at the cat comment.

"Oh. My name is Dib, by the way."

"Hi, Dib. So that girl who was sitting in my desk a moment ago…Where did she go?"

"Oh…no one really knows, to be honest. The underground classrooms aren't something anyone's really allowed to talk about…" Dib trailed off, obviously nervous about the current topic. Kat wondered if something traumatic had happened to him underneath the school. "So, um, where did you move here from?"

"I just came back from Australia, actually. My dad's job makes it necessary to travel all around the world. I never really stay anywhere long, though I am glad to be back in North America, at least."

"Really? What's your dad do?" he asked.

"I really don't know that much. As best as I can gather from all the partial explanations he's given me, he collaborates with a bunch of other scientists on a bunch of stuff. He still won't explain why he has to be there in person and can't just video chat or something." She said. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't even be trying to explain her constant traveling, but Dib didn't seem to be like the rest of the people and it seemed he could actually hold a conversation that lasted longer than two seconds.

The two continued to talk about their lives. Dib told Kat about his dream to become a Paranormal Investigator and all his run-ins with Bigfoots, ghosts, and everything in between. Kat told Dib about her how her dad had taught her more about science and history in one month than she had ever learned in school and her uncle (well-not-really-my-uncle-but-I've-always-called-him-that) who introduced her to centuries old literature that she soon became obsessed with. Conversation between the two was effortless, and they both clearly enjoyed having a sort of equal to talk to.

"You know, Dib, you seem like the first person that I can actually have a decent conversation with. It seems that everyone is an idiot."

"I'm not sure I would go that far, but yeah, a lot of the people here can be alarmingly ignorant. They just don't notice things right in front of them, even when I point it out EVERY SINGLE DAY!"

"Dib! Be quiet!" Ms. Bitters shouted and then continued her speech about how the universe was going to rip itself apart by going too fast without waiting for a response.

"Whoa, calm down. Did I hit a nerve there?" Kat asked, slightly worried about the sanity of this boy. Maybe he wasn't as normal as she had originally thought.

"Um, sorry," he said as a faint tinge of red made its way to his cheeks out of embarrassment. "See the green kid over there in the seat closest to the door?"

"Green kid?" Kat asked out of disbelief. Realizing that she hadn't even seen any of the other kids while she was distracted by the creepy teacher, she looked around the room, saving the desk by the door to examine last. Sure enough, there was a student with green skin exactly where Dib had said. His skin color wasn't the only peculiar thing about him, though. He didn't have ears or a nose. _How did I not see that when I came in?_ "Okay, wow, there is a noseless, earless, green skinned kid. What's the story with him?"

"He's an alien" Dib sad simply.

"An _alien_? I take it back; you're just as much of an imbecile as everybody else." Kat responded. _Birth defects? Not very likely. Mutated by the pollution on this planet? Extremely likely. Alien? Well, I guess there could be more ludicrous explanations._

"Come on, just LOOK at him. How can that _thing_ be human?" Dib asked. "He has antennae under that wig and everything!"

"I guess it is possible. What has—um, what's his name?"

"Oh right, his name's Zim"

"Thanks. What has Zim said to explain his green skin and everything?"

"A skin condition."

"What about his missing ears and nose?"

"He still goes with the skin condition excuse."

"Seriously? I don't think a skin condition can do that. He's definitely hiding something."

"Yeah, he's hiding that HE'S AN ALIEN!" Dib shouted again, this time standing on his chair and pointing at Zim as he said it.

Numerous outbursts of 'you're crazy,' 'stop being so weird,' 'shut up, big-head kid,' and 'I'm sorry the new girl has to sit next to him' erupted from everywhere. Ms. Bitters made no attempt to stop the students, and even gave a girl with spiky, light purple hair an A when she threw a crumpled up piece of paper at Dib from her seat behind Zim. Zim took the opportunity to stand up on his desk and join in.

"ZIM IS NORMAL!" he began to shout, but the sound of the lunch bell drowned out his voice.

Kids ran out of the classroom in a mad dash to get to the cafeteria. No one noticed Ms. Bitters fade into the shadows behind her desk and disappear. Not particularly caring if she was the last to exit the classroom, Kat made no hurry to leave. Plus, she didn't want to pass by Zim, who was waiting at the door and glaring daggers at Dib. _Alien or not, that kid is really…weird. It's not that he's stupid. He's just really…weird, but that's not the right word. Inhuman. There we go, inhuman. That actually fits perfectly. Maybe Dib is right. If he is, it must be torture to him the way everyone else seems to be convinced he's insane._

Seeing Kat's hesitation, Dib walked up to her. "He's not going to do anything to you. Zim is actually pretty harmless most of the time."

"Most of the time? That's reassuring," Kat replied sarcastically. "That wasn't what I was thinking though. Do people always treat you like that? You may be right though, about Zim, I mean. Come on, let's get some food and you can tell me all about his species."

"Yeah, they do. I guess I just get used to it. Wait, you actually believe me?" Dib looked completely shocked as the two crossed the classroom.

Kat opened her mouth to say something, but Zim beat her to it.

"So I see you have a kitty-pet, Dib-human. What's wrong? Can't fight your own battles anymore? Is the inferior human _scum_ too weak to fight The Amazing ZIM?" he taunted, interrupting whatever Kat was about to say. Then, the most-definitely-an-alien-but-there-is-still-the-possibility-he-is-just-insane Zim turned his attention towards Kat. "Don't believe the Dib-filth! He speaks LIES about the ALMIGHTY ZIM!"

Kat turned to Zim with a look so vicious that he visibly flinched. _Dib said he wears a wig? I'll see about that._

"First: if you _ever_ call me a 'kitty-pet' again, I will personally rip your limbs from your body one by one and then throw what's left of your bloody body into a pool of acid. Understand? Good," Every word that escaped her lips was calm, but the fury in her eyes betrayed her true emotions. "Second: my name is spelled with a 'K,' not a 'C.' _I am not a cat_. And third: saying you are human, but then calling Dib 'inferior human scum' are conflicting statements. I think you need to take a deep breath before you talk and _think_ about what comes out of your mouth."

Before Zim could react, Kat quickly reached up and grabbed his hair. Only slightly surprised to feel it move, she yanked the wig off his head and revealed two long, black antennae sticking out from the top of Zim's head. Half out of shock and half out of fear from the alien's furious look; Kat threw the wig across the room and landed on the floor next to Dib's desk.

The wig was on Zim's head then gone under a second, and the next second saw the two humans running from the classroom and the alien running to retrieve his disguise.


	3. Mashed Potatoes

"That was amazing!" Dib exclaimed as he and Kat ran through the hallway to the lunch room. "I really wish that I had my camera with me. That would have _perfect_ to take a picture of!"

"That was an alien…I just met an actual alien!" Kat finally managed to say once they arrived at the lunch room. Her eyes were unbelievably wide from shock, but a huge grin was plastered on her face as well. "I can't believe you were actually right! That's bloody brilliant! But a little green kid with two antennae? Isn't that a bit clichéd?"

Dib shrugged his shoulders. "It is pretty incredible, though. I just wish that more people would believe me. Let's find my sister first, before we start discussing Zim."

"Ok, but what about getting something to eat?" Kat had only eaten a slice of toast before she had to leave, and her stomach had been protesting for a while now.

"Trust me; you do _not_ want to eat anything here. Starving is a better option."

They sat down at a table next to a girl with dark purple hair shaped around her hair like fangs wearing a black dress and a skull pendant. She was completely immersed in the video game she was playing, and didn't acknowledge either of the newcomers' existences.

"Kat, this is my sister, Gaz. Gaz, this is Kat. Kat's new here and she believes me! She actually ripped off Zim's wig!"

"Then you're both crazy," Gaz said without even looking up.

"Gaz…don't be like that. You _know_ Zim is an alien."

"So?"

"SO? What do you mean? Before it was only the two of us, defending the Earth on our own! Brother and sister fighting to protect a world that did not want our protection! Now we have a third! Now there is a new hope that the people of Earth will one day soon realize that I was and still am right!"

Gaz lobbed a chunk of a mysterious white mush on her tray that may or may not be mashed potatoes at her brother with her spoon, sending him falling off the table and hitting the ground with a loud smash as Dib's head collided with the floor.

"Are you OK, Dib?" Kat asked as she offered her hand to help the fallen boy back up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Kat," Dib said, smiling as he took her hand and she pulled him up.

"Why does your voice have to be _so_ annoying?" Gaz asked. "And you're being awfully trusting of the new girl. Remember the last time some girl was new here? She turned out to be Irken and tried to eject the Earth's core and mantle, and then fill it with snacks for the leaders of Zim's stupid species."

Dib snatched one of the napkins from his sister's tray while Kat turned to Gaz with a questioning look written on her face. Gaz had already returned her attention to the video game she was playing and went back to pretending the two others didn't exist. The questionable mashed potatoes came off with little difficulty, but left a red rash wherever it had come in contact with his skin, which was the entire right side of his face and a good portion of his hands from when he had tried to wipe it off with them at first.

Are you sure that you're OK? That looks really painful," Kat commented, directing her attention back to Dib when she noticed the rash on his face.

"This happens every time someone comes in direct contact with the mashed potatoes. That rash will fade in about ten minutes. Thankfully, my glasses prevented it from getting in my eyes. That would have been _bad_ ," Dib shuddered as he began to clean his glasses with the napkin. "You do have a good point though, Gaz. That thing with Tak was awful. Prove that you're not an alien, Kat."

"What? Of course I'm no—"

"Hellooo there, Kitten," a high-pitched voice from behind them said suddenly, interrupting Kat for the second time that day.

These cat nicknames were really starting to annoy Kat, but she turned around anyway to see who it was. She saw a blonde girl wearing far too much makeup (not to mention that a fifth grader shouldn't even be wearing makeup) flashing an obviously fake smile, showing two rows of blindingly white teeth. Taking one look at the girl, Kat could tell she was a snobby popular girl. Behind her were two other girls that seemed to flank her like guards. Kat recognized the girl on the blonde's left as the one who threw a wad of paper at Dib. After sending a scowl the purple-haired girl's way, Kat directed her attention back towards the apparent leader of the group.

"Hi, my name's Jessica, and this is Zita and Penny," the blonde said in a sickly sweet voice, motioning to girls on her left and right respectively as she said their names. "You must be lost, because there is no other reason why someone would _want_ to sit with the crazy boy and his freak of a sister. Zita here tells me that this is your first day, and you don't _seem_ insane. Why don't you hang with us?"

Jessica held her hand out, offering it to Kat. Kat, however, looked at the perfectly manicured hand like it was a glob of the skool's mashed potatoes.

"No thanks. I'd rather sit with intelligent people rather than popular ones," Kat rejected Jessica's offer in the same calm tone of voice that she had used on Zim. As a general rule, Kat tries to be as nice to everyone as possible, but whenever someone makes a cat pun about her name, something inside of her snaps. She's been hearing them for as long as she can remember, and they are never original. She doesn't even _like_ cats.

"Are you sure?" Jessica's voice had lost some its sugary sweetness, Kat noticed with a smirk. The blonde kept her hand out stretched as an incredulous expression appeared on her face. When Kat did not reply to the question, Jessica's expression changed again, this time to one of anger. "Trust me, Kitten; you're going to regret this."

"But what you're going to regret is calling me Kitten. _Twice_. My name is spelled with a _'K'_ not a _'C,'_ not that anyone at this _bloody ridiculous_ 'skool' knows what spelling even _is_. Even if the three of you _did_ have a reasonable level of intelligence, I would prefer to 'hang' with people that aren't judgemental and superficial like you. How _dare_ you call one of the most intelligent people in this school _crazy_? I can deduce every detail of your life at a glance, and I know that I most certainly do _not_ want to be your friend. And ordinarily, I would go into great detail as to how I know that you drank orange juice and ate an omelette that your stay at home mother – no, father – made for you this morning while your mother, who is having an affair with her assistant, hugged you goodbye as your rushed out the door (you were nearly late for school) upon arriving home from her night shift, but I don't feel like wasting too much of my breath on someone with such a thick skull. Now, since you are clearly not wanted here, would you so kind as to _piss off_?"

"You're going to regret this," Jessica repeated, embarrassment written all over her features. The rage in her voice dared to surpass Kat's at this point. "You have just made a _huge_ mistake."

With her last word hanging in the air, Jessica turned on the spot and began to walk back to her table, her two followers keeping pace right behind her.

Both Dib and Gaz were struck speechless at Kat's actions. They were so distracted at Kat's speech, that no one noticed Zim sulk into the cafeteria, sit down a few tables away, and proceed to stare at the group with a look of utter contempt.

"Um, sorry. I kind of overreacted…," Kat began to explain upon noticing the siblings' equally shocked facial expressions. "It's just that there are _always_ girls like that at _every_ school I've ever attended, and I've been to _a lot_ of schools, and _always_ humiliate and bully the rare, intelligent students. I swear, it's like they're _programmed_ to. I guess I got tired of them always doing the same stuff. It gets depressing after a while. Plus, cat puns annoy me to no end."

"Impressive. You have just earned my respect by doing that, alien girl," Gaz said when she recovered from shock. The slightest trace of a grin appeared on her face before disappearing in the next moment, "even if you are kind of annoying," she mumbled under her breath.

"Thanks, I guess. I'm really not an alien, though."

"Sure you're not," Gaz returned her attention to her game and once again proceeded to act as if the other two at the table didn't exist.

"I've never seen anyone stand up to Jessica like that!" Dib exclaimed. Joy replaced his shock after he processed what had happened. "She is going to try to get you back for that, you know?"

"I'm sure she will," No discernible worry showed on Kat's face. In fact, she seemed more amused by the confrontation than anything else. "What's the worse she can do to me, though? Spread a nasty rumour? I'll be gone in a few months when my dad has to move again. She can't really hurt me."

"If you say so. But 'piss off'? I didn't even know that was a phrase. And how could you have possibly known all of those things about her?"

"Oh right, my not-an-uncle uncle is from London. So sometimes random British slang comes out, usually when I'm mad. I don't even know why. He almost never got mad himself. As for how I _deduced_ all of that about Jessica, it actually requires a bit of backstory. Do you know who Sherlock Holmes is?"

Dib shook his head. "Not a clue."

"I figured as much. He is a detective from a two hundred and seventy-six-year-old book series, after all." Kat told him. "He was really popular, though, and had many different recreations up until the mid-21st century, when most of the literature was lost and the First Internet was deleted during the Final Great War. The character practically disappeared after that. I think I have one copy of maybe the six or seven that still survive today. Uncle Mycroft gave it to me a few years ago as a birthday present. Oops, sorry, I went off on a tangent.

"Anyway, Sherlock was able to look at a person, observe things about their appearance or what they said, and then deduce things from those observations. He worked as a consulting detective for Scotland Yard, sort of the British version of the FBI, and helped solve murders and other crimes. I want to be a detective when I get out of these stupid schools, and Sherlock is sort of my role model. So I've been practicing deducing people for a few years, and I'm getting a lot better at it."

"That sounds pretty interesting, actually. Of course, it would be a lot better if there was something paranormal about it," Dib replied. "But what _specifically_ about Jessica told you what she had for breakfast and those things about her parents?"

"Right, sorry. She had a smeared, orange stain on her skirt with a few yellow chunks still embedded in the fabric that reeked of citrus and egg, so orange juice and omelette then. The only way omelette portions could have stayed embedded in her skirt for so long after breakfast is if they were applied with force. The most logical way this could have happened is if she had spilled orange juice, and then attempted to wipe it off with her napkin that already had particles of her omelette on it. She doesn't seem like the type of girl to willingly go out while knowing her clothes were stained, so she must have been in a rush to leave, preventing her from changing.

"Either Jessica's mother or father had to have been a stay at home parent because no one with a job has time to make their child breakfast anymore. She also smelled of two distinct brands of men's cologne. While one had to have come from her father, the most likely source of the second would be someone her mother was seeing in addition to her father. Of course, it's possible her father was the one seeing the second man, but the extreme rise in homophobia since the late 21st century makes that the less likely option. Jessica seems like the type of girl from a family that is just as judgmental and stereotypical as most of the population.

"The mother having working nights is the most probable for her occupation because the lack of time such couples see each other and the distorted sleeping patterns would have driven a wedge between the two, causing the wife to seek company from someone else. Someone she worked with is most likely because her schedule would have left little time for meeting someone outside of work. The night shift theory is also supported by the fact that she would not have had time to change or shower before greeting her daughter, which would leave the man's cologne on her when they hugged." Kat concluded.

"Wow! That was great! You could tell all of that just by looking at her?" Dib asked.

"Yeah, but I can only get that much information occasionally. It's taken a lot of practice for me to be able to do that, and I'm still not very good." Kat blushed at the praise and looked down at the table to hide the red seeping into her cheeks.

"Well. What can you tell about me?" He challenged.

Kat looked up at Dib and studied him intently. _Hmm… The rash from the mashed potatoes is nearly gone, but I can't see anything in particular other than that… But his glasses look a bit weird. Yeah, the metal is bent in lots of different places, and it even looks like someone tried to fix them, although rather poorly. How did they get bent in the first place, though? Knowing the way other kids treat Dib, they probably wound up in that way from Dib getting beat up. The poor repair job looks like he tried to fix them himself, so why didn't his parents help? Oh, it's because they didn't know. Maybe they didn't care. Either way, Dib clearly has a difficult relationship with his parents._

"Kat? Hello?" Kat had been staring at Dib for almost a minute without saying anything, and it was beginning to worry him.

"I'm fine, I was just thinking. I can't get much, but I can tell that you've been beaten up a lot and that you have a difficult relationship with your parents," Kat finally answered.

"Yeah. I get beaten up a lot and I see my dad maybe once or twice a year. Even he thinks I'm insane. How did you tell all that just by looking at me?"

"Your glasses," Kat said simply.

Another loud ring echoed through the entire school that signaled the end of lunch and the beginning of recess. Kids raced out of the cafeteria even faster than they did to leave the classroom.

Kat wanted to get out of there as fast as she could, eager to avoid another interaction with Zim. She had noticed him staring at the three of them and it freaked her out. The prospect of alien life somewhere else in the universe had always fascinated her, but now that she had seen it with her own two eyes…she wasn't quite so sure if the idea appealed to her anymore.

* * *

Once the three of them were outside, Gaz left them to sit down somewhere and play her game alone.

"Hey, Kat, you don't look so well. Is something wrong?" Dib asked.

"Yeah—not really—I mean—I guess the shock is starting to wear off and now panic is setting in?" she replied, unsure of exactly she was feeling. Kat didn't know how she was supposed to react. Fear? Excitement? Disbelief? The revelation that the universe was indeed populated by little green men with antennae was unsettling, to say the least. "How did you react once you found out?"

"Well actually I saw him crash his land when he first arrived. It wa—" Kat let out a long sigh, cutting him off.

"Of course you saw him _land here!_ Why not? _Why not?_ " she plopped down in the grass where they were standing and buried her face in her hands.

Dib sat down beside her and raised his hand as if to offer her some comfort, but eventually decided against it and let his arm fall down to his side. He wasn't good with people, and any attempt at reassuring her would probably make everything worse. They sat in silence for a while under the shade of a tree, listening to all the other kids enjoying their recess.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Kat finally spoke up. "You know? This is, without a doubt, the most interesting first day I've ever had—and that's saying a lot!" she said with a forced laugh. "So…what did you say Zim's species was called?" she asked after Dib still hadn't responded.

"Oh yeah! They're called Irkens. They have these robot companion things, but I'm pretty sure Zim's malfunctions or something? And their entire system of government is based on who's the tallest which really doesn't seem like that good of an idea for a basis of government, but hey, that's just my opinion. They've managed to create an entire space empire thing so I guess it's effective," Dib was so excited to finally have someone talk about Zim with without being dismissed or being called crazy! Maybe his luck was about to change.

"Hey, Dib?"

"Yeah?"

"Zim is here to take over our planet, isn't he?"

"Yeah…"

"And no one else believes you?"

"No one but my sister, and she doesn't really help me at all."

Kat suddenly jumped up. "Well _I'm_ going to help you! I promise. You're not alone in this anymore." She held out her hand to help him and he took it gladly. As soon as they were back on their own two feet, the bell rang signaling the end of recess.

The rest of class passed by in a blur. It was full of sharing information and whispered plotting and pretending to pay attention to Ms. Bitters. School was over before they knew it and they packed up their bags and (avoiding all of the kids jumping out of windows in a mad dash to escape their prison) walked outside together.

* * *

"So remember, you're coming over to my house tomorrow after school so I can show you everything else I have collected on Zim. Once you're up to speed, we can start devising our new plan of attack on Zim!" Dib said excitedly. Kat giggled at his enthusiasm.

"I won't forget don't worry," she assured him. "Besides, I'll see you in school before then and we'll be walking to your house together; it's not like I'm going to have a chance to forget."

"Right, right, I know," they both smiled; glad to have made a friend today. "Well, I have to wait for Gaz. See you tomorrow, Kat!"

"Bye, Dib," she said waving as she left.

Eight hours ago she had been walking up this same street to get to her new school. Eight hours ago she didn't know Dib or Zim. Eight hours ago her world was so small.

 _Holy shit_ , she thought to herself. _I just met an alien today._


End file.
